Soft winds, and gentle laughter
by Gazlover12-Canada
Summary: Before being a huge powerful Empire, he was just a little boy, constantly running from his older brothers and France. Little England fic! Contains fruk friendship, and OC Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Just to let you know, I go back and fourth from human names to nation names. Also, England's brothers look like teenagers, perhaps around 16 or 17, plus they talk with their accents! I hope you like it!**

A child who looked no older than four ran through the evergreen forest. His barefooted feet stung from the sharp rocks, and his little legs ached with protest as he ran. Still though, he couldn't stop now. His three older brothers were after him again, this time with their bow and arrows.

After a few minutes the boy stopped running, bending over panting, trying to catch his breath. He sat down by a tree, leaning his head back against the rough bark and closing his eyes.

He eventually heard giggling, and looked around startled. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw it was just some fairies. They fluttered around a patch of flowers, seeming to play some magical game.

It was quiet for a few more minutes before a new voice perked up. "Mon petit Angleterre, where are you?" A voice called. A voice that the boy knew well.

"Go 'way Francis!" He growled, getting back up to his feet. A boy who looked in his teenage years approached from behind some bushes. He had wavy blonde, shoulder length hair, and was wearing some dress like thing that looked extremely girly to the smaller boy. All of the fairies gasped and hid away.

"Non, I don't think I'll go anywhere." Francis replied, coming forth to stand next to the boy.

"I said GO AWAY! If you follow me, then my brothers will hear!" The little boy fumed.

"Hmm? Are they bothering you Angleterre? Don't worry, big brother France will make them stop." Francis said, petting the boy's mop of blonde hair.

"Don't call me that! My name is Arthur! And your not my brother!" The little boy, Arthur, said back.

"Of course not petit..." France smiled.

"Sasana! Where are ye hidin'?" A new voice, thickly accented in Scottish called. Arthur gasped, quickly grabbing Francis's wrist and darting behind the bushes that France had emerged from.

"C'mon out an' play!" Another voice called, this time accented in Irish. Out of the trees emerged three boys, all older than Arthur, and even Francis.

The oldest was Scotland. He had a full head of red curly hair, and forest green eyes the same shade as Arthurs. The second oldest was Ireland. He looked almost identical to Scotland, but he was a little shorter, and a little leaner than Scotland was. Then the third boy was Wales. He had light brown hair, but the same shade of green eyes.

All of Arthur's brothers had bow and arrows, though Scotland carried a heavy metal sword on his back. It glinted in the sunlight dangerously, causing Arthur to shiver in fear from his hiding spot. Francis was about to whisper something, but the small boy covered his friend's mouth. If you could call France his friend.

"I know he was 'ere, look at the foot prints!" Ireland said, pointing towards the muddy ground, where you could make out a faint trace of footprints.

"There's some bigger ones too. D'ya think Francis is with him?" Scotland asked.

"Maybe we could just leave Lloger alone an' go back? I want ya' ta teach me more sword fighting." Wales spoke up.

Arthur's three brothers soon gave up, and went back to the field where they had been sword fighting and wrestling. Arthur himself sighed with relief as their footsteps faded away. Francis was actually concerned for his little friend. Arthur was always braving through everything, but whenever his older teenage brothers were near, the boy actually trembled! It was insane!

"Mon petit...are you okay?" He asked after a minute. Arthur had been silent, biting his lip.

"Why do they hate me? I...I don't even know what I did..." The child spoke softly, more to himself than to Francis.

"Mon cher Angleterre...shhh." France hugged the smaller nation, whispering soothing words to the distraught boy. For a moment England was actually comforted, before he realized that France of all people was hugging him, so he quickly pulled away, punching the taller nation as hard as he could. France only laughed.

"Stupid git..." Arthur muttered. Secretly though, he felt a little better. The sun was out brightly, his fairy friends looked happy, and he was with someone who didn't despise him completely. So maybe for the rest of the day, he'd be happy.

**a/n: I just don't think there's enough little England fanfics out there, so I've decided to start on one! I can make some more chapters if you want, just review and lemme know!**

**Translations:**

** Mon petit Angleterre - My little England**

** Sasana - England (In Scottish)**

** Lloger - England (In Welsh)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Umph..." England gasped as he was thrown to the ground by Ireland. Scotland laughed beside him, both older boys smirking down. They were 'play fighting' in the same meadow the older boys normally hung out in. England had made the childish mistake of believing Scotland's lie. His older brother had promised to teach him how to shoot a bow and arrow the proper way. Turns out his three older brothers just wanted to taunt him.

"C'mon Sasana, is that all ye got?" Scotland sneered, grabbing the child by his upper arm and pulling him to his feet. England's legs were wobbly. His brothers never hurt him too seriously, but it was still painful.

"You just wait till I get bigger! Then I'll be the one beating you up!" The small boy snarled back. This just sent Scotland, Ireland, and even Wales into a fit of roaring laughter.

"C'mon brat, ye cant even throw a proper punch yet. Like this, see?" Scotland demonstrated by punching Ireland in the shoulder.

"What the 'ell?" Ireland shouted, before proceeding to throw his own punch at Scotland. The oldest dodged his brother easily. It was no doubt that Scotland was the strongest. For now anyway...

While the two older boys were arguing, England tried sneaking away. However, he was stopped by Wales, who promptly stuck out his foot, causing the smaller boy to trip. This caused both Scotland and Ireland to stop fighting, turning to look at England with smirks on their faces. England gulped, this was not good! But just as Scotland grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and had his hand raised, Francis's voice was heard.

"What's going on here?" The French teen asked, walking into the meadow. Scotland lowered his hand, but still held onto England's shirt.

"Were just teaching the wee lad not 'ta mess with his older brothers. Want 'ta help?" The red haired boy replied to France.

France frowned, coming fourth to stand closer to the British Isles. England, embarrassed at being caught in such a vulnerable position, tried to wiggle out of his older brother's grip, with no avail.

"Let Angleterre go." France said sternly, despite the fact that Scotland was almost a head taller than him. England inwardly gasped; Did Francis want to die? Nobody told Scotland what to do, and especially in that tone of voice.

"What makes you think I'd listen to you?" Scotland snarled loudly, advancing to lift England higher into the air.

"Brother...maybe you should..." Wales spoke softly. Ireland glared at the Welsh nation, as did Scotland.

"I said let him go!" France raised his voice.

At first Scotland looked like he would attack France right on the spot. Instead though, he dropped England to the ground a little harder than necessary, causing the child to wince in pain as he landed butt first on the hard dirt ground.

"Get out of here before ya regret it!" Ireland shouted. England stood, backing into France, who swooped him up into his arms and proceeded to walk fast towards the woods. Once they were a good distance away, England instantly struggled out of France's grip, standing back on the ground.

"Are you okay mon lapin?" Francis asked gently, using his thumb to wipe some dirt off of the little boy's face. England backed a step away from him.

"I'm fine!" He growled out, before quietly adding, "Thanks for helping me though..."

France laughed, ruffling the boy's hair much to England's annoyance.

"Stupid frog!"

"Oui mon lapin, whatever you say."

Both boys sat still for a moment. They were by a river, and the quiet rushing sound the water made caused England to feel tired. He rested his head against France's shoulder, and the older nation moved England onto his lap. For once England didn't resist.

"Hey Francis?" England spoke up.

"Oui Angleterre?"

"I still think your stupid."

**a/n: A huge thanks to rubyredroses1 and vidami12354 for reviewing. Review and lemme know how this chapter was! **

**Translations:**

**Mon lapin- my rabbit (French)  
><strong>

**Angleterre- England (French)  
><strong>

**Sasana- England (Scottish)**

**Oui- Yes (French)  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3

"France? France! FRANCIS!" a small boy screamed. He'd been looking for his older friend all day, but so far no luck. What is Francis was hurt? Or kidnapped? Anything could have happened!

'Oh no! If France is gone forever, then whose going to play with me, or protect me from my older brothers?' Arthur felt tears beginning to sting his eyes. He didn't even bother to wipe them away.

"Angleterre, there you are! We've been look- what's the matter!"

England looked up to see France, looking extremely worried. He instantly scooped Arthur into his arms, hushing him gently.

"What's the matter cher? Did your brothers 'urt you?" France asked, running his hand through the small boys messy hair.

"I...I t-thought you were d-dead cause I couldn't find you anywhere!" England hiccuped, burying his face into France's shirt.

"Oh Angleterre", France murmured "That would never happen. I was just hanging with my friend Antonio."

That was when England noticed the other boy who was standing a little aways. It was Antonio, otherwise known as Spain. Spain was about as old as Francis, and Arthur had met him on a few other occasions. The Spanish country was smiling cheerfully.

"S-stupid git..." England said, unsure himself whether or not it was directed at Spain or France.

"Awww, I'm sorry England. I didn't mean to take Francis away from you." Spain cooed affectionately at him. England only glared back, before struggling from France's arms. The older nation gently let him down.

"I hate you both!" England screamed, before turning and running in the opposite direction. He heard both boys calling him from the distance, but he didn't stop.

Eventually he came to a stop, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. The sky was starting to darken, and the wind was picking up. Great, all he needed was for it to rain now! Stupid everything!

"Well well well...what do we have here?"

England whirled around, recognizing the voice instantly. Looking up, he saw his three brothers grinning down at him. Swallowing thickly and trying to hold back from bursting into tears, the small child slowly took a step back.

"Please just leave me alone today?" He asked childishly, his lower lip trembling.

Scotland's evil grin faltered slightly, and his eyes softened. Same with Ireland and Wales as well.

"What's 'a matter Sasana?" Scotland asked, crouching down to his level.

"N-nothing!" England replied quickly, backing up. He didn't get too far though, backing into Ireland's legs, who had come to stand behind him. England whimpered, and was shocked when Scotland's hand came down to rub at his head in an almost affectionate manor.

"Your okay Arthur...it's okay!" Wales said, a smile coming across his tanned face. For a moment Arthur blinked. Why had his brothers suddenly turned...nice?

"A-ah...thanks" England said, leaning into Scotland's touch.

"Would y'like ta come fishing with us?" Ireland asked. Fishing? That sounded fun to England. Sometimes he and France would fish, but England had never fished with his brothers before.

After his little brother nodded, Ireland picked England up, setting him on his shoulders. It was very high up, and it caused England to smile.

For the next hour, the Kirkland brothers sat by a river with their fishing poles, which were made from sticks that Scotland had broken off of a nearby tree. They used worms, frogs, and small insects as bait.

"I-I got one!" England said, feeling a tug at his pole. His brothers watched him with soft smiles.

"C'mon Sasana, bring it on in!" Scotland said. England tried to pull, put the fish that had caught on must have been strong.

The fish tugged hard, so hard in fact, the the pole slipped out of England's little fingers.

"Your such a wimp!" Ireland said angrily. "That could 'a been our dinner!"

"Stupid kid!" Scotland added, giving England a hard shove. England ended up falling into the shallow part of the river luckily, but his knee scraped on the rocks, and he was soaked with water.

His brothers laughed before walking off, leaving England to cry softly, holding onto his knee. After he was sure his brothers were long gone, England got up and began running through the woods, going to find the only person who could comfort him; France.

Indeed, France was still up. He had a fire going and was cooking some sort of food. Spain seemed to be gone. England was about to run to France, before he remembered being angry at him before. He stood behind a tree for a moment, contemplating what to do.

France seemed to have noticed him though, and turned around, staring into the direction of where England hid.

"Angleterre is that you?" He asked. For a moment it was silent, before England emerged from the trees. Francis gasped in shock at his state. The child was soaked to the bone, shivering violently.

"What on earth happened to you?" France asked, scooping the boy into a tender hug.

"M-my brothers..."

That was the only explanation France needed. He sat England on his lap in front of the fire, hoping that it would help England to dry off.

After a little while, France served them both rabbit stew, that was spiced with yummy herbs. Even England had to admit it was good. He was pretty much dry now, and began to feel sleepy.

"C'mon Angleterre, you can come sleep at my house tonight." France told him as he put out the fire. England tiredly clutched his rival's hand, then the two walked off into the night, towards a nice house and a warm bed.

**a/n: I hope this was okay...I tried to make it cute. Hahaha I'm so mean to poor Iggy. I love writing things like this though. Maybe I'll have his brothers be nicer to him in the future. Review and tell me how you liked it?**


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was shining very brightly out. Crickets and birds chirped, setting the environment as basically a very happy place. England was happy as well, because he was visiting his pet bunny, who lived in a small burrow near the river. He was waiting here because his older brother Wales promised to teach him how to properly use a bow and arrow!

He pet the soft creature's fur, and it nuzzled his hand in content. A minute later the soft giggling of little fairies startled him out of his thoughts. One perched on his shoulder, tugging on his hair playfully. England giggled as well, gently pushing the fairy away.

"I wish I could be a fairy! Then I could fly away and hide very easily. Your lucky!" He told the few fairies that were flying around him.

"Mon cher Angleterre!" France's voice rang from a distance. Instantly the fairies squealed, diving towards a patch of flowers, and instantly faded. England huffed; why did France always have to interrupt his chats with the fairies?

The teen named Francis Bonnefoy, otherwise known was France, stepped out into the little sunlight patch in the forest where Arthur was sitting. France had grown even bigger than the last time Arthur had seen him. He looked to be about 17.

England hadn't grown much, perhaps a centimeter. He still had a rather baby, childish figure, and pudgy cheeks. To put it plainly, he looked absolutely adorable!

"What do you want Frog?" England asked, folding his arms in a childishly manor. France just laughed, coming forth to sit next to the boy.

"Is it so wrong of me to want to check up on mon petit lapin?" He replied, reaching out to ruffle England's messy blonde hair. England instantly jerked away, giving Francis's arm a slap.

"Don't touch my hair! You made my fairies have to hide!" He told the teen.

"My apologies lapin. Oh but your just too cute, even when talking about your imaginary friends!" France laughed, pulling England into his arms. England instantly protested.

"They are too real you stupid frog! Your just not smart enough to see them! Your eyes are too close together!" England shouted. France gave a huge smile of amusement.

"My eyes huh? I see.." He murmured, resting his chin on the squirming boy's head.

"Uh-huh! Cause you only like to see what's in front of you. You don't look beyond the trees, or the flowers. And your too busy causing trouble with that stupid Spain!" England said.

France tried to muffle his laughter. England was still jealous of Spain, even though he'd rarely hung out with the Spanish nation in some time. He was too busy with trying to develop his country more, that and teasing England.

"Oh hey guess what?" England asked suddenly, looked much happier.

"Quoi?"

"My older brother Wales says he's going to show me how to aim a bow and arrow correctly later!"

France frowned a little at this. Why would any of England's brother, even Wales, ever want to be kind to England?

"Are you sure there not just teasing you Angleterre?" The teen asked.

"Mhm!" England nodded. "He promised!"

"Arthur...don't be upset if he doesn't show, all right?" Francis asked. He knew how cruel those older brothers of England's were. They might think it funny to promise the child something and then hurt him in another way.

"You stupid Frog!" England shouted. "Go away! I know he'll come! He said so!"

France left, but only for a little while. The next morning he came back to the spot where he had left England and found the small boy still sitting there, hands wrapped around his little legs, and head down.

"Mon lapin!" France cried, rushing over to England. When he looked closer, France saw England's face covered in dirt and dried tears. He was shivering too, despite the way his thick dark cloak wrapped around him. The poor child must have waited there all night!

"He never showed" England said in an empty voice. "Even when he promised to."

"Shh...hush mon petit" France murmured, rocking England back and fourth. "I'll teach you how to use a bow and arrow myself. We can go to my house right now!"

With that France scooped England into his arms, and began walking in the direction of his home. France was furious at England's brothers, they had no right to treat England so harshly! France himself teased England on occasion, but it was nothing like this! He patted England head, cooing little words in French to him. England only sighed wearily, resting his head on France's shoulder.

"You don't have to" He mumbled. "I know you don't want to"

"Nonsense mon lapin" France shushed him. "It would be an honor to teach you."

The only response France got from the boy was a small smile.

**YAYYYY! I hope everyone has a spectacular Thanksgiving! **

**Review and you get a slice of turkey! :p**


	5. Chapter 5

_Translations are at the bottom! Enjoy(:_

It was cloudy out, and rain was sprinkling in a light manor. England was playing a running game with his fairies. They would chase him until he was so tired, that his little legs couldn't run anymore. Then he would lay on the ground panting, before going to chase after the fairies himself.

"You'll never catch me!" He sang gleefully to his small winged friends.

"Yes we will, yes we will!" The fairies sang back.

England began to gain speed, but as he ran along a hill he tripped, causing the small boy to roll all the way down. The wet grass stuck to is hands and feet, and his clothes were now damp. Looking around, he couldn't see his fairies anywhere.

Just as he was about to call for them, he heard voices. After crouching and moving towards where the talking was coming from, he realized it was his older brother's voices.

Instead of running away like he normally would, he crouched behind a few bushes and listened. So long as they didn't see him he would be fine, since right now he wasn't their target. For the past few days he had been avoiding them at all costs, so they had given up for the time being.

"No you don't do it like that Wales! Your have to finish cutting them before you put them in the pot!" Scotland's voice rang out. His three brothers were sitting around a pot, presumably trying to cook themselves a meal.

"Is it going to be done soon?" Ireland asked eagerly.

"Hold yer horses, it'll be done in a sec!" Scotland replied, scooping the food onto three plates for them. Ireland, ever so eager to eat, quickly took a bite of the steaming meat.

"OW OW OW OW!" He screamed, burning his tongue. This caused Scotland and Wales to both laugh. It also caused England snicker to himself, though he was a little louder than he meant to be.

"There you are Sasana! How dare you spy on us ye ungrateful brat!" Scotland roared.

England's once amused expression turned instantly to fear. He gave a childish shriek of terror and tried to run. His brothers were quicker however, and Ireland picked him up by his cape and gave him a hard punch in the stomach.

"That's for laughing at me!" He said, before throwing the poor child to the ground.

England got up and was about to run away. Scotland kicked at England's legs though, causing him to fall once again.

"Yer such a weakling! Your country will be the worst ever someday...not that it already isn't!" Scotland spat. Anger began to course through England's veins. He hated being called small, or being called weak. With a little battle cry, he ran and headbutted into Scotland's legs forcefully, causing the teen to stumble.

This sent all of his brothers into a fit of rage. Instantly they all ganged up on England, knocking him to the ground and kicking him repeatedly. Scotland went the hardest, barely showing any mercy to the now sobbing child.

"O-okay...I think that's far enough guys!" Wales finally said. England was limp and his eyes were closed. Scotland looked a little guilty.

"H-he's fine. C'mon, let's go!" He said. The brothers left quickly, stealing little glances at the motionless figure on the ground.

Sometime later England did wake up. His limbs felt on fire, and the bruises on his stomach hurt like hell. This was the worst his brothers had ever done! Normally they would only ruff him up a bit, but never this far!

He gave a little sob. It was pitch black out now, but he knew his way around the forest well. Limping pitifully around the trees, he tried to recall the route to Francis's house.

France was sleeping peacefully in his big bed. Suddenly he awoke to the sound of knocking at the door. He groggily got up, lighting a small lamp on his way to the front door. When he did open the door, the French teen was greeted by an awful sight.

England stood in the doorway. His lip was bloody, and there were bruises all over his face. The small child was also trembling violently. Francis let out a curse in his own native tongue, instantly picking the small boy and taking him inside.

France's house was nothing too special. He'd built it mostly himself, not wanting to live in the town a few miles away from the forest. He preferred the nature, as well as the peace and quiet. So he lived in a good sized cabin that was plenty warm in the winter, and nice and cool in the summer.

"Mon lapin, what happened?" Francis asked worriedly, setting England on a chair and getting a cloth to wipe away the blood. Though he wanted an answer from England himself, on the inside France knew that England's brothers most likely were the cause of the poor child's state.

"I w-was spying on my b-brothers! They caught me an' h-hurt me!" He sniffled. On normal days he'd just insult France, or tell him it was none of his business. He didn't do that though, because he was far too upset and in pain to. Besides, he had come to Francis's house _himself_.

France's eyes narrowed dangerously. They had gone too far this time!

After doing all he could for Arthur's wounds, Francis tucked the child into his bed before putting on his daytime clothes. He was going to go and confront the older Kirkland brothers. Not another day would he stand by and let their cruel treatment to Arthur go unpunished. He didn't care that Scotland was a head taller than him, or that Ireland could probably throw a better punch than him. He was going to teach them a lesson!

The Kirkland's slept in a small house made of logs themselves. It was almost as big as Francis's house. Their home barely was used through. Most of the time the older brothers would be out and about in the forest, and they would sleep on the soft blankets of pine needles. Because it was damp and dreary out though, tonight the brothers were inside their cabin.

France angrily made his way through the forest, practically trembling with rage. The window of the cabin was lit up, so the brothers must have still been awake. Instead of knocking, France just kicked the door in.

"What the hell d'you think yer doing?" Scotland shouted as the now broken door crashed to the floor.

"How dare you terrible brutes hurt Arthur!" France screamed back, storming inside and getting right in Scotland's face. Ireland was quick to stand from his spot as the table, and Wales, who had just laid down into bed, stood up as well.

_"Vous les garçons sont absolument affreux! Comment pourrait vous blesser un enfant innocent, votre nontheless frère?" _France hissed in his own language, because that was what he resorted too whenever he was this angry.

"We can't understand yer garbage language!" Ireland snarled.

"You all disgust me!" Francis said. "I won't stand by and let you hurt Angleterre any longer!"

"Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?" Scotland asked mockingly before adding, "And we didn't mean to hurt him that bad this time, we didn't realize we had until it was too late."

"IT DOESN'T MATTER! THE DAMAGE IS ALREADY DONE!" France screamed widely. All three brothers flinched, never before had they seen Francis so angry.

Scotland's eyes darkened quickly, and he drew back his fist. A moment later It contacted with France's face, sending the French teen stumbling harshly a few feet back. No doubt his cheek would have a bruise later.

"Get out of our house." Wales said harshly.

"You going to pay for what you've done to him." France said coldly, turning around and exiting the house, but not before kicking the table on his way out, causing plates to shatter.

Then Francis was gone, leaving the three Kirkland brothers standing in their house which now had no door. Their faces no longer shone anger, but perhaps a little regret.

**a/n: Wow, that was kind of a violent chapter. Poor Angleterre...Anyways, thanks for all your spectacular reviews! Review and gimme some feedback on this chapter too please! I'll update asap!**

Translations:

_Vous les garçons sont absolument affreux! Comment pourrait vous blesser un enfant innocent, votre nontheless frère_

(You boys are absolutely awful! How could you hurt an innocent child, your brother nontheless?)


	6. Chapter 6

England sat by the river on a rock, a pout on his babyish face as he sulked. It was all that stupid Spains fault. Today he wanted to go fishing with France, but when he got there Spain had been visiting. The Spanish teen had smiled brightly and hugged Arthur, offering him a tomato. Of course Arthur had slapped Spain in the face and yelled "Get off me you git!"

France had gotten mad though, telling Arthur it was naughty to hit, as if he were some baby! So it had only made sense for England to scream "I hate you!" and then run away as fast as he could.

So now he was here, scrubbing angrily at his face, trying to get rid of any remains of tears. The small country tried to ignore the guilt that was building up in his stomach. What if France hated him now because he had hit Spain and yelled? What if France would avoid him forever, or even side with his older brothers?

Hopefully not. After all, he _had_ yelled at France lots of times. Usually France would just smile or laugh. This was Spain though, so France seemed to have been mad. Arthur was debating whether or not to go back and apologize. His stubborn side told him to just stay put rather than to go and face Francis, as well as Spain.

The small child was startled from his thoughts as something soft nuzzled against his leg. It was a small bunny, fluffy and brown. It wasn't his actual 'pet' wild bunny, but it was still very cute, just like his other one.

"Hello. Your really soft!" Arthur said to it, running his hand through it's thick fur. The bunny gave a little squeak, hopping a few feet away. This caused a childish laugh to escape from Arthur's mouth as he chased after it.

The bunny,_ Brownie _as he had decided to call it, began hopping away more. Naturally a chasing game occurred between the two. Brownie kept hopping just far enough for Arthur to still have site of, but still keeping a proper distance between the two.

The bunny was then still for a moment, sniffing a bush of some sort. Then, to Arthur's horror, an awful thing happened. Out of nowhere, an arrow came soaring through the air, hitting his new bunny right in the side. The fluffy animal squeaked once before falling to the ground limply.

"Hahahah! Look at your little playmate now!" Came Scotland's voice. The red haired nation came into view, Ireland right beside him.

England's lower lip trembled as he gave out a whimper, trying not to cry.

"M-my bunny..." He whispered, taking a step towards the now dead creature. Ireland got to the rabbit first, picking it up and putting it into his sack.

"This'll make a yummy dinner tonight! Care ta join us Arthur?" Ireland said with a sneer. Scotland snickered beside him. England blinked once before bursting into tears.

"I hate you! Why don't you ever leave me 'lone!" He wailed, before taking off in the opposite direction.

Arthur went to the only place where he usually sought comfort from; Francis's house. It didn't even matter anymore that Spain was there, or that he had been scolded by France and had then run away. Hopefully France wasn't mad at him or anything.

When he arrived at France's small house, the child didn't bother knocking as he burst through the doors. France and Spain were both sitting at France's table, seeming to be talking about something. England, who was still crying loudly, ran straight to France's arms.

"Angleterre..." France said, shocked. "What's wrong lapin?"

Arthur continued to cry though, burying his face in France's neck. The teen gave his friend Spain a confused look, with which Spain could only return with a shrug.

"What's wrong Arthur?" Spain asked softly.

"BROWNIE!" England screamed, holding onto France even tighter. Both older nations looked even more bewildered if possible.

"Brownie?" France asked. "Are you hungry?"

"N-no! But my b-brothers were!"

Both Spain and France didn't know what to do, as Arthur wouldn't offer any explanation other than 'Brownie' so France just continued to rock the small child, and Spain offered soothing words every few minutes. Eventually Arthur stopped crying, and sat hiccuping in France's arms.

"Tell us what happened petit Angleterre." France said, shifting England so he was seated more comfortably on his knee. Arthur sniffled, rubbing his eyes, which were red and swollen from crying. A light flush colored his cheeks as well when he realized that he'd just acted like a baby in front of France _and _Spain.

"I made a new bunny friend. I named him Brownie, 'cause he was brown." He told them.

"Then what happened? Did Brownie run away?" Spain asked.

"No" England hiccuped, more tears threatening to escape his eyes. "My brothers killed him for their dinner. Right when we were playing!"

"Oh Angleterre. It's okay lapin." Francis hushed Arthur, who was now sobbing again.

"There are plenty of other bunnies. Besides, now Brownie's in bunny heaven!" Spain said, offering England a smile in order to cheer him up. England stopped crying.

"Bunny heaven?" He asked. "I didn't know bunnies went to heaven."

"Ah, they do very much so" France added to Spain's theory. "It's full of grass and veggies."

"Oh" Arthur said, thick eyebrows furrowing together as he thought this over. "I guess that's okay then. But I still miss him."

"Why don't we play a game with you?" Spain offered.

"What game?" Arthur asked.

"Any game you'd like." France answered.

"We can play the chasing one! Just like me and Brownie played! An'...an' we can.." Arthur's sentence was cut off by a large yawn that almost split him in two.

"Why don't we save the game for tomorrow lapin? It's getting quite late out. You and Espagne can sleep here, and tomorrow after breakfast we'll play your chasing game." France said, scooping England into his arms and walking to the bedroom.

England, too tired to do anything but agree, nodded against France's shoulder. "M'kay" He muttered

He was asleep before France had even reached the bed. France then laid him down upon the rather large mattress, taking off England's cape and little boots, then tucking him under the covers.

"He sure is cute!" Spain commented as France came back into his kitchen.

"Yeah, he sure is." France agreed, sighing happily and leaning back into his chair. No matter what, England would always be adorable.

**a/n: Yay, I finally updated! Lol sorry for making Arthur's brothers so rude. Sorry for killing an innocent bunny in my fic as well. I tried to all lots of fluffyness at the end though! Review, and I shall do a happy dance.**


	7. Chapter 7

Things had been going very well recently. It was winter now, so the forest was covered in a thin blanket of snow, and the usually thick green trees were now bare. England's brothers had been staying away from him for the most part, too busy hunting as much as they could since meat in the winter was scarce, or staying in their little cabin.

England himself had taken to hanging out with France a lot more in the winter, mostly because it was cold and France insisted that he stay over on cold nights, which was pretty much every night.

Winter was one of England's favorite seasons. It was really pretty, quiet, and just overall calm. France didn't enjoy winter that much, because he hated the cold. Luckily the French nation supplied both himself and England with new thick cloaks and furry boots. England liked his black cloak a lot better rather than the white winter one, but Francis told him he looked adorable and that he must wear it.

Spain would visit often, most times England would grow aggravated, but sometimes the Spanish nation could be fun. For instance, Antonio would bring Arthur outside to a fresh layer of snow and they would both make snow sculptures. France would mostly stay inside, cooking or reading books he bought from town. His country was developing even more, so sometimes he would be away on country business.

So yes, for the most part everything was well. That is, until one day. It was mid afternoon, and Arthur was at Francis's house after running about in the snow with his fairies. His cheeks were red from the cold, and his mop of blonde hair was tousled from the wind.

"Here you go mon petit Angleterre" France said, placing a steaming cup of coco in front of the small boy. England took it and drank eagerly, being careful not to burn his tongue.

"Hello guys!" Spain's voice rang out as the door opened. The teen was carrying a bag, filled presumably with food.

"Bonjour Antonio" France greeted "How are you?"

"Oh, just fine!" Spain replied cheerfully, coming forth to the table and patting England on the head. England quickly ducked his head and scooted away; he hated it when people touched his head.

After that Spain and France both started a conversation, leaving England to his drink. The little nation began to grow bored though, his drink halfway gone. He dropped from the tall chair with a little thud, going to where his boots and cape were warming by the fire. He was ready to go back outside and play with his fairy friends.

"No mon petit, wait a little longer before you go outside. Your clothes are still damp and you'll catch cold." France told him just as he got his boots on. England huffed in an aggravated manor. France wasn't the boss of him, he could do what he pleased!

England continued to put on his cape, pretending that he didn't even hear France, even though it was obvious he could hear him. When he got to the door, he reached to open it but to his surprise, he felt himself being picked up!

"I told you to wait Angleterre. Just until your cloak dries off." France said, proceeding to undress England from the cloak and boots.

This ticked England off. Nobody told him what to do! He pouted angrily as he was lead back to the table and told to finish his drink. He did comply and sit, but he did not finish his drink at all. He was still fuming over the fact that France was treating him like a baby. So what if he looked little, he'd been that way for a very long time, and he had far more experience than regular children. He was a country for god sakes!

"Cheer up Arthur, you'll be able to go outside soon." Spain told him gently when both of the older teens noticed Arthur's upset face.

England was a very good little country most of the time, but he had his stormy side as well. So England, still feeling angry, picked up his half full cup and threw it straight at Spain's face. The older nation cried out in pain as the glass cup hit him, then shattered into pieces as it hit the floor.

"Angleterre!" France shouted in horror. England instantly knew he'd been wrong, as Spain held his face in his hands cursing to himself.

"You _do not_ throw things! Your even big enough to know that!" France said angrily before going to Spain's side and trying to inspect the Spanish nation's face.

Arthur didn't know what to do at first, shocked even at himself. He didn't mean to hurt Spain that bad, he had just been angry! He stood still, hesitating on whether or not he should try and help Spain as well.

"Go outside for all I care Angleterre" France finally spoke again. "And stay away."

Fear welled up inside England as he ran to where his cloak and boots were, almost all the way dry. After slipping them on and picking up his cloak, he then proceeded to run out of France's house.

So this was it. France would never let him back into his home now. England started thinking about where he could go. It would be dark in a few hours so he needed to find shelter. Town was too far away, and the snow was too deep to walk in that far. His brothers were most certainly a no as well.

Shivering, England decided he would try and find his fairy friends. Perhaps they would be able to help him. They didn't seem to be near however, so England trudged further into the forest. By now his legs were growing numb.  
>With a small whimper, he decided to sit under a large tree and rest, and Tears began to run down his cheeks. Though he would never say it out loud, the small boy missed France, and even Spain. He hoped Spain was all right. Though he very much wanted to apologize, Francis had told him to stay away.<p>

"Lloegr?" A voice suddenly said. Startled, England turned around to see his older brother Wales. The Welsh nation was bundled up against the winter's chill, and he had his signature bow across his back.

England began to cry harder. Now was most certainly_ not_ the time to get beat up by his brothers. He was already cold, and he didn't need to be hurt too.

Wales seemed to notice England's instant increase of distress so he sat down next to his little brother, reaching out to run his fingers through England's hair. England didn't pull away, in fear of making Wales mad.

"What are you doing out in the cold? Shouldn't you be with Francis or somethin'?" Wales asked, a little concerned about England.

"No" England finally replied, turning his head to look into Wales green eyes that matched his own.

"...How come?" Wales asked when England didn't offer any further explanation.

For awhile they both sat in silence. Wales really didn't know what the hell he was doing. If Scotland or Ireland had found Arthur, they'd tease him for sure. However, Wales knew he was a bad brother and sort of felt bad about it. He decided England didn't need to be bullied today.

"I did something bad." England finally muttered. Wales almost smiled, glad that England was finally talking, even if it was a little.

"What did you do?" He asked. England put his face into his hands and sniffled.

"I hurt Spain by throwing a cup at his face! France told me to stay 'way" England told him. "I deserve it. What if I killed Spain?" The little nation said, beginning to cry again.

"I-it's okay. Besides, Spain is a country, an' countries don't get taken out by cups. It was wrong of you to throw a cup though." Wales said as comfortingly as he could. His words didn't seem to be helping much because England was still crying.

"France hates me now! He's the only person I have besides the fairies, so now I have nobody!"

Wales was a little hurt on the inside when England didn't say he had his older brothers to help him. Inside he knew that England was right, his big brothers were never there for him.

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you. People can get mad and say things...they don't think before saying them. I'm sure Francis didn't mean to say those tings to you. He's probably worried now."

"Maybe" England answered "But Spain will still hate me, and France and Spain are best friends."

"Nahhh, I've only met that Spanish kid a few times, but he seems really happy. Too happy for my liking...but I'm almost positive he'll forgive you." Wales said. "You know maybe if you apologized, they would listen."

"Yeah..." England murmured. "Maybe they would."

Meanwhile, France was in fact, very worried about his Angleterre. He hadn't meant to say those things, they just sort of slipped out. By now it was dark, and very cold out. Spain was fine by now, and he had a bandage covering his chin.

"I told him to go away...the poor thing must be freezing! We have to go and find him Antonio!" France shouted. He felt awful for making the little nation leave. He had to understand that children did things like throwing cups, nation or not.

"Yeah, I sure hope he's okay. It looks awfully cold out there." Spain said. "But it's okay France, everyone says things without meaning too sometimes."

"This is all my fault though..." Francis muttered, putting on his cloak. Just as he got prepared to go outside, a soft knocking erupted at the door. France and Spain both looked at each other, before France raced to open the door.  
>England stood there shivering, clothes drenched from the snow. His cheeks were a bright red and his hair was soaked from the melted snow.<p>

"I c-came to a-a-apolo-" England was cut off mid sentence as France scooped him up into his arms, hugging England tightly to his chest.

"Mon dieu! I was so worried lapin! Please forgive me for yelling, and for telling you to leave!" The French teen said, before proceeding to take off England's wet cloak and shirt before setting him on the table.

"M-my fault" England spoke through chattering teeth. "S-s-sorry Spain."

"Don't worry about it Arthur, I'm all better!" Spain said, rubbing Arthur's little bare feet to get them warmer while Francis wrapped a thick shawl around England's small frame.

A few minutes passed and England slowly began to get warmer. He was seated on Francis's lap drinking more coco, whilst France rubbed his back.

"Where did you go when you left?" Spain asked suddenly. England stopped drinking, licking his lips before answering.

"I ran into my brother Wales!"

"What?" France and Spain both asked at once, and France instantly began to check England over for any injuries.

"Don't worry, he was nice and told me that you didn't meant to tell me to leave. He also said if I apologized then you'd let me come back. He even brought me back here!"

"I would have forced you to come back, apology or not." France mumbled, burying his face into England's hair.

"Francis?" England suddenly asked in a small voice.

"Oui?"

"Thank you for...everything." He said, leaning back against France once again. "You too Spain...I guess."

Both the older teens laughed, and France hugged England tightly to his chest. For now everything was content.

**a/n: Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all the reviews last chapter! Please review this one as well, and I promise to update asap. Haha, I finally made one of his brothers nice to him! Lol, it most likely wont last, but at least Wales helped poor Iggy. I tried to make it very fluffy. **

**Thank you to all the favs as well. I'll be updating before Christmas! See you for now!**

**Also, tomorrow I'll update _A little taste in history!_**


	8. Chapter 8

When France stepped into his little house, he was caught off guard when he saw England standing up on the table. The small boy had a bright smile on his face, looking ahead of himself.

"_Mon petit_, what on earth are you doing?" France asked, taking his cloak off before crossing the room to stand in front of England. Even while standing on the table, England was still a little shorter than France.

"I'm trying to become taller!" The little nation said proudly, lifting his chin up.

"By standing on the table?" France questioned, raising a thin eyebrow. England gave him a look that crossed between confusion and embarrassment.

"W-well everything looks bigger up here, so I thought..." The little nation didn't finish his sentence, his cheeks turning red.

France erupted into laughter, reaching out and lifting England into his arms. He nuzzled his face into England's messy hair while dodging a hit that was aimed for him.

"You'll get bigger eventually lapin. Personally I think your adorable this was though, _mon petit bébé_" France told him with a smirk. Five...four...three...two..

"I AM NOT A BABY!" England protested, squirming to get out of France's arms. France didn't comply though, swinging the small boy onto his hip and kissing his cheek.

"Yes you are _petit Angleterre_" He sang. "And it's about time you go to bed."

"Nobody tells me when I go to bed frog!" England argued, but was silenced by a large yawn. A few minutes later he was being tucked into bed by France.

Since England refused to keep sharing a bed with France when he started staying over more often, France had made a small but cozy bed right beside his own, covered with warm blankets.

"_Bonne nuit Angleterre_" France murmured to the already asleep England, blowing out the candle that lit the room before quietly leaving. The French nation went back to his kitchen, sitting at the table with a hot drink.

It had been two days since the whole fiasco with England hurting Spain with that glass cup. Right now Antonio was off in his own land, solving country business with his boss. France had been doing things like this too, since his country was growing by the day.

France was startled by his thoughts when there was a knock at his door. Of course he knew it couldn't be England, since the little boy was in dream world right now. It couldn't be Spain either because one, as mentioned before, he was in his own country. Two, France always knew that it was Spain because the Spaniard would knock loudly or just come in anyways.

"Come in!" France said, shrugging to himself. Maybe it was some hunter who was lost.

The door slowly opened, and in stepped one of the last people Francis had been expecting...

"W-Wales? What are you doing here?" France asked. He wasn't angry, just shocked. England had told him about his talk with Wales, but France was still a little wary of the older Kirkland brothers, as be to expected because of all the pain they'd caused England.

"Hi Francis...uh, sorry to intrude. I just wanted to...talk." Wales said softly, examining his surroundings. He'd never actually been inside this house before. It was much neater than the shabby log cabin that the Kirkland's shared.

"Oh...come in and have a seat." France said politely. Wales quickly crossed the room, sitting in the chair across from France.

"What did you have on your mind?" France spoke up again when Wales didn't speak. The Welsh nation opened his mouth, about to say something, but then shut it again. He wasn't exactly sure on what to say.

"Um...it's about England" Wales started, before stopping again. France nodded his head in an indication for Wales to go on.

"I want to...I want him not to hate me." Wales said abruptly. He was quite surprised to see France laughing.

"He doesn't hate you Wales. Angleterre just wants nice big brothers."

"Oh" Wales blinked. "Well how the 'ell do I do that?"

"Show him you care. Why not take him out to play tomorrow? Not for too long though, I don't want him getting sick in such cold weather." France said. Wales frowned. Take Arthur out to play? That would be a little awkward...

"Fine I guess. I'll get him sometimes tomorrow morning." Wales said, standing up to leave. "Thanks France."

"Your welcome _mon ami_. Remember though...if I find out that your mean to Angleterre, then you'll be sorry."

France said the threat lightheartedly, but both knew that France seriously meant it. Wales nodded as he exited the warm house, back into the wintery world of white. Things would hopefully go well the next day. So long as Scotland and Ireland didn't find him playing with England...

_()()()()()()()()()()()()_

The next day England awoke to the smell of eggs. He sleepily climbed from his bed, rubbing his eyes as he went to greet France in the kitchen. Luckily the fireplace warmed the room.

"Good morning Angleterre" France said from where he was cooking.

"Morning frog" England responded, taking a seat at the table. His seat had two thin pillows for him to sit on so he could reach properly.

France set a plate of breakfast in front of England, before sitting down himself. It was silent at first as they both began to eat. England was still tired, and France was thinking.

"Arthur, would you like to spend a day with your older brother Wales?"

When France said this, England chocked on his milk, causing the french nation to curse to himself, patting England on the back until the child stopped coughing.

"W-What do you mean spend a day with him?" England asked, eyes wide. Though he'd had the nice talk with his brother, England was still cautious. Besides, Scotland and Ireland were always nearby Wales.

"Last night he came by and offered to take you out to play today. Would you like that?" France said, trying to sound as lighthearted as possible. England, eyes still wide, considered this. One of his older brothers _actually_ wanted to play with him? He didn't even know Wales was that type of person.

"O-Okay" He stuttered, finishing the last of his breakfast.

"Good" France smiled. "He'll be by soon, so let's get you ready."

Pretty soon England was wrapped in his thick cloak, along with wearing his boots and mittens. To be honest he was rather nervous. What on earth would he and Wales be doing? What if something went wrong? He expressed these feelings to France, who reassured him that if anything happened, "Your brothers will have _moi _to answer too!"

England still wasn't very reassured, but he didn't have time to think about it much as Wales arrived. The brown haired teen smiled nervously at England, who returned it.

"Have fun Angleterre! Don't stay out too long!" France waved goodbye. England sent him a glare back at being treated like a kid, but waved back nonetheless.

"So...what do y'wanna do?" Wales asked as they walked further into the woods. The sun was out, but despite this, it was cold. The perfect white snow sparked, and every so often you could hear snow falling from the bare tree branches.

"I don't know...what do you want to do?" England responded. He was afraid that if he suggested something, Wales would tease him or call him childish.

"What d'you normally do when you play?" Wales questioned. Truth be told the older once was nervous as well. First off he didn't want to run into his brothers, plus he didn't want to do anything to scare England.

"How about...how about we make snow sculptures?" England asked tentatively, looking down at his feet. Spain would often do that with him, and Spain was older. So maybe Wales would enjoy that too...?

"Okay" Wales agreed abruptly, more than happy to finally have something to do. The two nations walked out to a clearing filled with fluffy snow. They got on their knees and began to build their own things. While doing so, Wales stole a few glances at England, who was too concentrated on his snow pile to notice.

England was a rather cute child. His face was covered by messy looking locks of hair, and his green eyes, the exact shade as the other Kirklands, sparked with determination. Wales felt this urge to hug the adorable child, but resisted so.

"My fairies told me that I'm good at making snow sculptures. Even better than Spain!" England began chattering in his childlike manor.

"There probably right, that's a very good unicorn your making." Wales responded. He himself was making a snow bear. One ear was too small and it was rather lopsided, but at least it was decent. Time went by pleasantly. That is, before they heard a new voice.

"Wales? Where the hell are ya?" Scotland's voice called. Wales instantly stiffened, as did England. However, England's was out of much more fear.

"There y'are Wal-...what the bloody hell are ya doin' with that runt?" Scotland yelled out of confusion as he and Ireland emerged through the trees.

"I-I-I...you see, uh..." Wales said, trying to explain. Truly, what the hell _was_ he doing? He was hanging out with his little brother, whom he normally teased mercilessly.

"Wales was being nice and playing with me!" England said confidently, absolutely sure that he'd have Wales to defend them if Scotland or Ireland tried anything. Sadly though, he should have thought better.

"Wales, is this true?" Ireland questioned. Wales, who panicked, stood and crossed his arms, using his foot to destroy his own snow sculpture.

"I was doing no such thing! Just telling England what an awful job he does at making snow sculptures!" He said. Instantly he felt extremely bad, seeing his little brother's crushed face.

"Hahaha, your right, look at that pile of shit!" Ireland snicked, coming over to kick England's snow unicorn apart violently. England protested with a little gasp, tears threatening to spill form his wide eyes. Scotland came over too which made England stumbled back. The large red haired teen grabbed England's neck, shoving the little boy's face into the cold snow. England tried to escape, a surge of panic going through him as his face was held into the snow. He couldn't breath, plus snow was getting in his eyes, ears, and mouth.

Wales did nothing but watch. He felt bad of course, but rather England get bullied than him, right? That was what made sense in Wales's mind, so he did nothing but wince a little at hearing England's muffled screams.

After kicking England around a little more and shoving snow under his tunic and cloak, Scotland and Ireland left, Wales trailing behind them. The last thing he heard was England screaming, "I hate you Wales!"

It made him feel awful inside.

_()()()()()()()()()()()()_

France was _very_ worried when England suddenly burst in screaming incoherent words and kicking objects around the room in a tantrum like way.

"_Mon petit_, what happened?" France asked, trying to pick the screaming/sobbing nation up. England only screamed harder, smacking at France when he got close.

"I h-hate them! I hate them, I hate them, I HATE THEM!" England kept screaming over and over. He was crouched in a corner sobbing so hard that he was beginning to turn blue.

"Come here lapin, please come here!" France was almost on the verge of tears himself. He had no idea what had happened, but England had never, ever thrown a tantrum quite like this before. Normally he'd run right into France's arms.

"N-no!" England responded, trying to back up even farther into the corner, which was pretty much impossible.

France felt hot anger pulse in his veins. Not at England, but at England's brother Wales. Clearly he had done something terrible to the little boy.

For awhile France sat as close to England as the baby nation would allow, listening to England cry his eyes out for at least another hour. Eventually the crying turned into chocked sobs, then into small gasps. France thought it was finally over, until England stiffened, throwing up all over the floor and beginning to cry again.

When he saw England starting to shiver, France realized he needed to get the child out of his clothing, which was sopping wet.

It took another good twenty minutes for England to finally grow quiet, trembling as he closed his eyes, leaning into the corner out of exhaustion. France took this opportunity to get closer, avoiding the vomit on the floor, and scoop England into his arms. The tired nation couldn't do anything rather than lean his head against France's chest.

He brought England into the bedroom, dressing him in a new tunic and wrapping a heavy blanket around him. After that, he proceeded to carry England back into the kitchen and sit down, holding the whimpering nation close to his chest and rubbing his back.

"Angleterre? What happened?" He finally spoke.

"I was so happy to have someone besides you and Spain like me...I should have known better." England responded tiredly with his eyes closed. France knew he was on the verge of sleep.

"What did Wales do?" France asked.

"..Do? He didn't do anything at all...just watch my other brothers hurt me. He even denied ever being nice to me." England said, nuzzling his head closer into France's chest and falling asleep. France was very angry to say the least. He'd warned Wales, had he not? Getting up, France carried England into the bedroom. France set England in his big bed rather than the small one he'd made for England. It wouldn't hurt England to sleep with him one night.

France ran his fingers through England's damp blonde locks before going into his kitchen and cleaning up the vomit. So many emotions were going through him at the moment. Anger at the brothers, pity for England, guilt at himself for allowing England to even go out with Wales in the first place.

"I'm so sorry Angleterre...please forgive me." He whispered, getting into bed beside the sleeping nation and pulling England into his arms.

**a/n: Oooh, kinda a dark ending for this chapter huh? Let's just say that next chapter is going to be very...interesting. By the way, I see a lot of people adding this story to their faves, and I'd love for you guys to review as well. There's nothing I like more than feedback for each chapter, plus you guys are welcome to suggest** **ideas and such. Thanks so much to those who _do _****review. It always encourages me to update asap. Btw, I'll update my crossover, A little taste in History, tomorrow okay? Writers promise!(: **

**Until then...**

**see you guys later, and please review and tell me how you liked this chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

The next day had France even more worried than he already was. England looked...defeated in a way. During breakfast he hardly even touched his yummy hot blueberry bread, resulting in Francis having to coax him to finish it.

Spain had returned to visit, yet England acted like he didn't even care, going to curl up on his bed. The Spanish nation had greeted Arthur with a kiss on the head, and Arthur didn't even yell at him! This had confused Antonio greatly, but Francis explained what had happened. Spain was angry at England's brothers to say the least.

"Come on Arthur...we'll build snow sculptures even better than the ones before!" Antonio tried to convince the little boy.

"Non...I'm not so sure if it's a good idea for Angleterre to be outside. He looks like he's getting sick." France said, noticing how England's face seemed a little flushed, and how it looked like he had a chill.

In the end Spain allured England to come out to the kitchen and play with him. The two both sat on the floor carving wood into little figures.

"Look at this one's nose! It's bigger than his arm!" Spain laughed, showing his wooden person to England. The little blonde boy nodded, a small smile forming onto his lips.

"Awww, there's the smile we've been waiting for!" Spain said teasingly.

"Shut up, git!" England said back.

France watched the two of them from his seat at the table, smiling to himself. Antonio may have been a full fledged teenager like himself, but internally he was just as much of a child as England was. Francis was glad Arthur was cheering up though, so he decided not to tease them.

"France, do you like it? I decided to give him three arms, in case he looses one in a sword fight or something...because you never know." England said to France, showing him his design.

"Very good lapin. You have a talent for working with wood!" Francis praised, trying not to laugh at the three armed...thing.

After a while Spain took a seat next to France, and both watched England for a little while, who was still very into his carving. Inside his mind, France was trying to come up with ways to get back at England's brothers. They had gone way too far this time, especially Wales. The Welsh nation had gained Arthur's trust, only to break it horribly.

No wonder England was such an angry child at times, who could blame him? France was glad that his childhood hadn't been like that..not that he was grown at a full extent anyway. France was still growing very much, and his country was becoming wonderful. England still didn't seem to be growing much, but his country _was_ beginning to develop.

"Any idea how were going to get back at the bastards?" Spain asked quietly, bringing France out of his thoughts.

"I'm not sure...something to make them never want to harm Angleterre again." France whispered back. They were both trying to keep quiet so England wouldn't hear. They didn't want to upset him further, because it seemed that finally the child was forgetting about the events that occurred with his brothers.

"I was thinking we could use some classic torture methods on them. You know, like tie them to a tree by their feet!" Spain said enthusiastically.

"Wonderful idea Antonio..." France said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Tie who to a tree?" England asked innocently, coming forth to stand next to France's chair. Both teens looked at each other in alarm.

"Um...nothing mon lapin. Er, don't you think it's time for bed? I think so! Go get into your nightshirt Angleterre." France said in a rush. England made a face but complied, walking out of the room and muttering about 'stupid frogs and tomato lovers'.

When England returned in his nightwear, he was shocked to see both France and Spain in their coats and putting on their shoes.

"W-where are you going?" He asked.

"Just out to do some business. Come now, time to go to sleep." France told him gently, lifting England into his arms and bringing him to the bedroom.

"Are you going to my brothers?" England asked abruptly.

"Go to sleep mon lapin" Was France's only answer, tucking the covers securely around England.

"Don't go!" England pleaded, clutching at France's sleeve. "They'll hurt you!"

"'Quiet mon petit. I promise everything will be just fine." France comforted him. He then quietly walked from the room, ignoring England's whimpering. He was going to get back at those Kirkland bastards with or without England's permission.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Wales sat on his bed, face buried into his arms guiltily. He hadn't meant to be so cruel to England. His brothers just made him panic, that was it! Speaking of his brothers, they were both drinking and arm wrestling at the shabby table.

"Quit yer sulking Wales, come an' join!" Ireland invited. The younger teen just shook his head, going back to his sulking. Ireland and Scotland both rolled their eyes.

"I don't see what the big deal is. We always tease the wimp on a daily basis! Why the 'ell are you suddenly so upset about it? The runt asks for it, being the wimp that he is." Scotland said, just as he won the arm wrestling game, smashing Ireland's wrist onto the table. The freckled teen cursed at his older brother, demanding a rematch.

Before either could do anything the door opened. In stormed Francis, with Antonio right behind. Wales sighed, knowing that it had only been a matter of time until France would arrive. After all, the French nation did warn him.

"What the 'ell are you doing here? Didn't we tell you to stay out?" Scotland roared in fury, standing up from his seat. Ireland stayed seated, but snarled from where he sat. Wales tried his best to look guilty, hoping that maybe Francis would spare him, even though this whole thing was his fault.

"You said you'd take good care of him!" Francis yelled at Wales, ignoring the other brothers for the time being.

"I know...I _am_ sorry. He really is just a weakling though. The kid deserved what he got." Wales responded. He felt extremely bad for saying it, but he could act all sincere in front of his older brothers!

"You disgust me! Angleterre is just a child! He's hardly any older than a baby! If you want him to grow into a strong country, you must show him that you care! Not that you lot have any hearts." France said angrily.

"Can't you at least just stay away from him? I can't bear to see the little guy hurt!" Spain added.

"This is our territory, so we'll do whatever we want! I suggest you two bastards get out of our house before we decide to teach 'ya a lesson!" Ireland stated.

Both France and Spain stood their grounds though, balling up their fists and glaring. It made Wales a little nervous. France was becoming a strong nation, and so was Spain. Things would not turn out well if something serious was to start.

"Be very careful with your next move _mon ami_" France said threateningly. "Never underestimate the French or the Spanish. We are much more stronger than you know."

Scotland looked like he was about to pounce on the two furious friends, but Ireland put a hand on his shoulder.

"There right brother. We don't need to start a war or anything."

"That's right" Spain agreed. "So do us all a favor and leave your baby brother alone!"

France waited for both Scotland and Ireland to back down once again before turning to Wales. The brown haired Welsh was looking at them with a remorseful expression.

"As for you Wales...I'm disappointed. You were the one who wanted to try and be nice to Arthur. You are no longer welcome anywhere near Angleterre unless you want something _very bad_ to happen."

Wales nodded mutely, looking like he was about to tear up. Francis and Spain left soon after. They had both been planning on beating the crap out of the older Kirklands, but at least they'd made themselves look dangerous. When they returned, both were very surprised to find England sitting up and waiting for them, crying lightly.

"I thought I told you to go to bed!" France scolded gently, picking the child up from where he sat and soothing him.

"Y-your not dead!" England hiccuped in a relieved tone.

"Why would we be dead?" Spain asked, bewildered.

"Because!" England said. "I thought they would kill you for intruding!"

France chuckled lightly, squeezing the boy in reassurance. England's eyelids were already drooping, so France put him to bed. That left him and Spain to sit in the kitchen quietly in thought.

"I have a feeling that they will not stay away from Angleterre. What are we going to do Antonio?" Francis asked.

"If they attack him again, we'll do what's necessary mon amigo." Antonio answered.

France sighed. Why were people so cruel in this world? Why couldn't everyone just love?

**a/n: Sorry it took me so long to update, the Holidays just had be busy. Also sorry for this chapter being so short. I hope it was okay. Please review, and maybe give me some ideas for future chapters? I want to make it really cute and fluffy!**


	10. Chapter 10

_Please excuse all mistakes, I'll fix them later after I've had a good nights sleep! (:_

As the days passed, Francis began to worry less and less about the danger of Arthur's brothers. Granted he was still cautious, but he didn't expect any full house invasions from them or anything. Because he didn't like the small country being alone, whenever Francis had work to do he would take Arthur with him.

The village that was a few miles away from the forest mesmerized England. Never had he seen so many people all in one time, all chattering loudly and walking this way and that. France would be sure to hold onto England's hand tightly so he wouldn't get lost in the crowd.

Despite often being a little mischievous, whenever France was talking country matters with his king, England would wait patiently outside the room, sitting in a small chair and swinging his feet. France would praise him for being so good by buying him fresh bread from the bakery on their way back.

Luckily they didn't need to go to the village often, but the outings were always a little nice. When they weren't busy with that, the two would play about in the woods. Francis still didn't like Arthur walking around the woods alone, but sometimes he permitted the boy to, so long as he stayed close to the house. Arthur agreed, and spent most of his time outdoors talking to his fairy friends.

On one day in particular, France and Arthur decided to go to the river. By now the snow was almost all gone, and the river was melted. Arthur had wanted to fish, and Francis couldn't argue. They hadn't had a good fish meal all winter, and who was he to deny something as good as freshly cooked fish?

"I think I got one!" England yelled happily at the tugging feeling that was occurring in his fishing pole.

"Very good Angleterre!" France praised as England reeled in a good sized fish. "That will taste good tonight!"

For the next hour they sat, talking about random things while waiting patiently for more fish to bite. France caught two more, and England didn't get any others. He was a little irritated at France catching more fish than him, but still took pride in catching the first one.

"Well now, look who's here!" Someone said from behind them, in a voice that was accented in pure Scottish.

France whirled around quickly, dropping his pole in the process. The Scot was standing a few feet away, Ireland by his side. Both teens looked tall and menacing. England, who had jumped at the voice as well, subconsciously scooted further to France.

"What do you think your doing here?" France said in a low but deadly voice. Scotland only smirked, crossing his arms, which were bulging with their usual muscles.

"Yer closer to our territory idiot. Besides, nobody owns this river! We can go wherever we want!" Ireland spat.

Both of the older Kirkland brothers were in a highly dangerous mood today. They had fought with Wales, who had tried to convince them that England wasn't that bad after all. Obviously the other two didn't take that so well, and had stormed off.

"Fine them. Come Arthur, we're leaving." Francis said stiffly, grabbing Arthur's hand as well as the fish. Arthur quickly grabbed the fishing poles, and both started to walk away.

Suddenly a hand clamped down hard on France's shoulder.

"You've twisted our brother's mind France. Wales suddenly thinks the little brat deserves our _love_." Scotland sneered, glaring towards England.

"Remove your hand from my shoulder." France said coldly.

"Today he tried to convince us to go and apologize to the runt!" Scotland carried on, completely ignoring France.

"I said, take your hand off my shoulder!" France said, tone more sharper.

"Your just as pathetic as the runt is!" Scotland leered tauntingly, though he did remove his hand from France's shoulder. What happened next nobody expected. France let go of England and leaped forward, crashing into Scotland.

The Scot yelled in surprise as he dodged the punches France was aiming at him, just barely missing him. Ireland growled and instantly came to his brother's defense, running over to the brawling countries and aiming kicks at France's side.

England stared wide eyed for a moment, not really believing what he was seeing. Then he realized that Ireland and Scotland were beginning to succeed in hurting Francis and quickly rushed to try and rescue him. The small child head-butted Scotland's legs, trying to jump on his back and pound his fists into him. Scotland peeled England off effortlessly, tossing him a few feet away.

France was trying to claw at Ireland and Scotland's faces, and managed to draw blood as his nails dug into Ireland's cheek. The Irishman responded with a hard punch to France's jaw.

Arthur got up and quickly tried to attack once more. Again he was tossed away, like a sack of potatoes. Finally it became too much for the little child to bear, and tears began smarting in England's eyes.

"Stop hurting him!" He tried screaming. Of course they didn't listen. France was loosing the fight by far, and finally he lay limp in the muddy ground.

"That'll teach you not ta' mess with us!" Scotland snarled. He then got up, dusting himself off and wiping the blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth. Ireland righted himself up as well, before both brothers turned to look at England, who had now run to France's side, sobbing quietly. The Frenchman was out cold.

"Tell your friend that we won't hesitate 'ta do worse next time!" Ireland snarled, before both Kirkland brothers walked away. England sniffled, wiping at the blood that was streaming out of France's nose. Not only did he have a bloody nose, his left cheekbone had a dark bruise, and he had a blackened eye that was already swollen shut.

"Francis?...Please wake up!" He muttered. France was still for a minute before groaning, beginning to stir.

"A-Angleterre?" He murmured, before realizing what had happened. "Where are your brothers mon lapin?"

"Gone" England answered. "They said...they said they'd hurt you even worse next time!"

France felt like crap. Besides the damage to his beautiful face, his ribs also felt bruised. Plus he was pretty sure one of his fingers was broken as well, judging by the way it throbbed and limped at the wrong angle.

"Are you okay? I tried to help, but they were too big!" England said, beginning to cry again.

"Shhh, it's alright mon petit lapin. At least I got in a few good punches...come on, we'd best get home." Francis soothed. As he tried to stand up, he instantly grimaced at the pain that shot through his ribs. It took him more than one attempt to get up, but eventually he did.

England carried the fish and the poles as they both silently walked home. It took longer since France was exhausted and sore, but eventually they got there. France collapsed into bed, not even bothering to start a fire or light any candles. England hesitated before crawling into France's bed with him, cuddling up to the bigger country.

"I'm going to contact Spain..." France muttered. "We'll get them back."

England could only respond by burying his face into the covers to muffle his crying. What could have been a nice day had turned out to be the exact opposite. What was going to happen because of this?

**a/n** **Ahh, this chapter should have been longer. Oh well. I was itching to write a scene where Francis attacked them, so here we are! I wonder what's going to happen next? Oh the suspense! Poor Francis...I'm so mean! Anyway, thanks for the reviews. I didn't get a lot last chapter, but thanks anyway! I'm so excited since I just pre ordered hetalia season 3. Yay!**

**Review and let me know how you liked this chapter! It might just inspire me to write more tomorrow...;)  
><strong>


	11. Chapter 11

_Please excuse all mistakes!_

France didn't get too much sleep that night, because the pain in his body prevented it. England tried to do all he could to help, but he wasn't good with things like that. The bandages were up on a high shelf, a shelf in which England could not reach. France couldn't either, because it hurt to move his arms too much, because of the damage to his ribs.

Currently the injured nation was sitting in bed. England had told him that he was going to cook something, and that statement worried France. England had once tried to make potatoes, which resulted in almost burning the whole house down.

"You really don't have to cook anything mon lapin!" France called, silently praying that the child could stop cooking...whatever it was he was cooking.

"No, it's okay Francis! I got it!" England called back cheerfully. "I'm making something really yummy!"

"That's...wonderful cher" France said with a sigh, sinking back into his pillows. Hopefully no fires would occur today.

A few minutes passed and France allowed himself to close his eyes. Perhaps a short nap wouldn't hurt...since he had limited ability to sleep comfortably last night. It didn't take long for him to fall into a light sleep.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, England was trying his best to make a good meal. The child was mixing a bowl full of honey, milk, and raw eggs, shell and all. He decided that if a cake was made, then France would cheer up. After all, cake made everyone happy.

Just as he was finishing the mixing, there was a knock at the door. England almost dropped his bowl. Who on earth could be visiting? Despite his confusion though, the little child stopped what he was doing and slowly walked to the door. He cautiously got up on his tiptoes and grasped the door handle. Because of his small size, it took a moment for him to open it. When he finally did get it open though, the young country gasped in shock.

"W-Wales?" He whimpered, seeing the tall teenage nation standing in the doorway.

"Er...hi Arthur. Um...I.." The Welsh stuttered, not exactly sure what to say at first. It was sprinkling outside, so his brown curls were slightly damp, and he wore a blue cloak wrapped snugly around him.

"Y-what do you w-want? I promise we wont b-bother Scotland or Ireland again." England said, tears threatening to escape his eyes. He still remembered the last time he had seen Wales...with the snow incident.

"I'm not going to hurt you! It's just...I found out what they did. Look I just wanted to apologize for their actions. I had no idea they would attack Francis like that." Wales said guiltily.

"Okay...um, thank you." Arthur whispered.

"Is he okay? Francis I mean?" Wales questioned.

"I dunno" The small country confessed. "I'm not good at fixing hurt people. Usually it's Francis who help _me_. He looks pretty hurt though."

This statement made Wales worry. "May I come in? Maybe I can help...I'm not so bad at medical things myself. I could take a look at him if you'd like." He said, hoping that his baby brother would agree. You see, Wales was feeling awful about how he'd last treated Arthur, and he really wanted to make it up to both Arthur as well as Francis.

"Really?" England asked, his face lighting up. "Oh please help! I need Francis to get better...because otherwise I would be all alone."

Wales felt his heart pang at Arthur's words. Wow, he really was a horrible brother. It was hard though, because Scotland and Ireland both hated England...and Wales really looked up to his older brothers. They weren't so bad! They were just a little rough around the edges...

His brothers weren't so keen with him at the currant moment though. Just before he came here Wales had argued with them, telling Scotland that it was wrong of him to have hurt France. At first they'd just laughed at their little Welsh brother...until Wales had punched Scotland and told him to stop being an asshole. So yeah, he was a little nervous to go back home. That was why he came here, to make sure Arthur and Francis were okay.

England led him to the bedroom, where France was dozing lightly. The French nation looked beat up all right, his face was pretty bruised.

"Francis, wake up! I got someone to fix you!" England whispered in France's ear. Hearing the child's voice, France woke up straight away. It took him a moment before his eyes adjusted to the light. Then his gaze fell on Wales.

"What are _you_ doing here?" He snarled, sitting up in bed quickly. He gave a hiss because it hurt his ribs to do so, but he was very angry.

"I'm just here to help!" Wales said quickly. Seeing England nod, France let his shoulders relax a little, but still kept a glare. Clearly by the looks of it Wales wasn't looking to harm anybody, but he wouldn't let his guard down!

"Wales said he's going to make you all better! He actually knows how to!" England said cheerfully.

"Righhht" Said France sarcastically. "And why may I ask, do you wish to help?"

"I didn't know that they attacked you! I...told them that they had no right to. It's about time that I stood up to them. Listen France, I feel really sorry for the way that I treated Arthur. That day I just wasn't thinking clearly. My other brother's aren't so bad...they can just be a little wild! Please forgive me!" Wales pleaded.

"You should be asking for Angleterre's forgiveness, not mine." France snapped. "And you call teasing and bullying a small child a _little_ wild?"

"Okay okay, they can be brutes. I admit that I was no better." Wales said, before turning to England and crouching down to his level.

"Arthur, I'm really sorry about how I've been treating you. I swear that I wont be like that anymore. Please can you forgive me?" He asked the small boy.

England hesitated, chewing on his lower lip. This was his true dream..to have one of his brothers actually care about him. But what if Wales was lying? After all, last time Wales had been nice to him he had ended up being bullied anyway.

Finally, the British nation came to a conclusion. Wales had to be telling the truth this time. His eyes did seem to look honest.

"Okay...I'll forgive you of you can make France better." He said. Wales smiled softly, relief flooding through him.

"Deal...so where do you keep the first aid stuff?"

A half an hour later, Francis was feeling much better. Wales had taped up his ribs and had mixed up some sort of medicine made of herbs, spreading it over all the cuts and bruises. It felt wonderful on his skin.

"Are you feeling better?" England asked France a little while later, eating some fish that Wales had cooked up. Now the three countries were sitting around France's bed and eating. Eventually Francis had warmed up a bit to Wales, though it was still a little awkward.

"I'm as good as new!" France told England, ruffling the small nation's messy blonde hair. England swatted his hand away, but giggled nonetheless.

Wales felt a little jealous at the fact that England was closer to France than he was to him...but he supposed that he deserved it...since he was such a horrible older brother.

"Well, I need to get going. If I don't finish cutting the rest of the firewood then my brothers and I will freeze." Wales said as he noticed the sky getting darker.

"Oh...but can't you just stay here? It's not like you have to live with them!" England said, feeling a little sad. Bpth Kirkland brothers were standing by the front door now as Wales put on his cloak.

"Yes I do" Wales told him. "They need me. Besides, I'm the one who knows how to cook the best out of all of us."

"Oh" England replied. "Well it's better here, because France is the best cook ever! But don't tell him that I told you that!"

"No need, I can still hear you from the other room Angleterre!" France laughed from his bed.

"Git!" England called back, before turning back to his brother. "Bye then...come back soon though!"

"I will..." Wales responded. "Bye Arthur."

Soon Wales was gone, so England crawled into bed next to France, still being protective as he had been ever since Scotland and Ireland had hurt him.

"Have sweet dreams mon lapin. Everything is going to be just fine." Francis whispered to him, wrapping Arthur into a hug and nestling his mop of blonde hair with his chin.

"Yeah" England murmured sleepily. "I'm glad."

**a/n: I am SO sorry that it took forever to update. Things have been busy, and new classes have started and all. I've been having a hard time here because of my cousins and stuff, but hopefully things will get better. A huge thank you to MDWOLFGIRL! She gave me the idea of Wales coming to help. So yeah, thank you so much! Review and I promise to update soon, most likely on Friday! **


	12. Chapter 12

A few days passed by quickly. Francis's injuries were almost completely healed and no longer hurt him. Arthur was still trying to be as helpful as possible around the house which was very cute. The child constantly asked Francis if he needed anything and even tried to clean and cook. Truly that was little more of a nuisance, but the thought was what counted so Francis didn't say anything.

Antonio had come for a visit. He was livid upon finding out what had happened with Francis and Arthur's older brothers. He wanted to march right over to their house and give the brothers what he called 'Spanish revenge' but Francis persuaded him to just leave it alone for now. It was no use causing trouble. Besides, they needed to focus on making sure that Arthur was doing okay.

He certainly seemed to be doing just fine. Now that one of his brothers liked him, there wasn't a happier child living in the world. Wales sometimes came to take Arthur out on walks, or bring him some roasted rabbit as a treat. It caused the young country to beam in happiness 24/7.

"Do you want me to carry that for you Francis?" Arthur asked, running over to the other country, who was carrying a pitcher of water inside the house.

"Non, I can carry it on lapin, but thank you for offering." Francis told him with a smile.

"Are you sure? I'm strong, I can help you!" Arthur persisted.

"It's really fine Arthur." Francis assured him. "I am pretty much healed now anyway."

Arthur didn't look satisfied, but allowed the big nation to carry the water into the house, a small pout on his chubby baby face. He followed Francis closely, almost as if he was expecting the Frenchman to suddenly drop dead just from carrying something. Francis didn't mind though.

It was growing to be later in the afternoon. After some persuasion from Francis and Antonio, Arthur had spent most of the day outside. He had run into a few snow fairies, and they had played with him for a good part of his outside time. Now it was time for dinner. Antonio had brought over some tomatoes, so Francis made tomato soup.

"What are we going to do now?" Arthur asked once the meal had been eaten. His face was covered with the soup, and a lot of it had dripped into his tunic.

"How about I take you out hunting for a little while, until it gets dark? After you wash your face of course." Antonio suggested, laughing when the boy's eyes lit up.

"Really? Yeah, I want to go! Are you coming too Francis?" Arthur asked excitedly.

"Oui, of course." Francis replied.

The forest was beautiful. Snow was melted, dripping form the trees. The birds sang songs, and the tree leaves were starting to bud. Spring would be here soon! Antonio hadn't caught anything with his spear yet, but it was still exciting walking in the forest that evening.

"I hope we find a bear! Wouldn't that be great? Then we'd have food for the rest of the year! Maybe even more than that. Like ten years!" Arthur chattered happily as they made their way through the woods.

"Yes, I suppose that would be nice. But it would be a little hard killing a bear. They also hibernate in the winter Angleterre." Francis explained to him.

"Hibernate? What's that?"

Francis opened his mouth to explain, but Arthur never got to hear what hibernation was. A throat cleared from behind, causing Antonio, Francis, and Arthur to turn around. What they saw made their blood run cold. Scotland and Ireland stood there, staring at the three of them.

"What the hell do you think your doing here?" Antonio hissed, being the first one to speak.

"Yeah, this is not your territory." Francis added, crossing his arms. If they wanted a fight, then so be it. He had Antonio now now, and together they would have a better chance. It was a little concerning that Arthur was there though. He made sure to push the little nation behind them.

"Erm...were not here to fight." Ireland said, sounding a little uncomfortable.

That blew the French and Spanish nations off a little.

"Oh yeah? Then what are you here for? Come now, spit it out! We don't have all day!" Francis said, not caring if he sounded rude. They deserved it after all.

"We...ah...wanted ta' apologize. We didn't mean to hurt you that bad. We went a bit too far." Scotland said, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

An apology? That most certainly caught them off guard.

"I am not the only one who should be getting an apology. You have no right to treat your youngest brother so harshly! What has he done to you? Nothing, that's what! Just because he's the smallest you all bully him. Well you don't have any right!" Francis said in an angry tirade.

"We know. Wales got through to us about that already." Scotland said, before glancing at Arthur, who was peeking out from behind Francis' leg.

"Listen Artie. Ireland and I are sorry for how we've been treating ya' in the past. I know nothing we do will ever make up for it, but just know that we're sorry." He said, hanging his head down in shame.

"Yes, sorry Arthur. We were too harsh with you over the years." Ireland added.

Francis and Antonio both gaped in shock. Arthur on the other hand, cocked his head to the side, green eyes widening. After all these years, his brothers were sorry? Sorry for making his childhood a miserable mess? Sorry for harshly teasing him? Sorry for beating him up and laughing just because he was too little to fight back?

"I don't forgive you" He said coldly. "Not after hurting my Francis."

Scotland and Ireland jumped a little, almost as if they had actually accepted everything to be fine and dandy, just with one little apology. Maybe he could forgive Wales since he had never really hurt him as bad, but that was as far as he wanted to go at the moment.

"Er...Perhaps we should go now." Antonio said a little nervously, as if expecting the two older nations to attack them since they hadn't been forgiven.

"Yes. Let us go. Have a good day." Francis said, taking Arthur's hand and leading him away smugly. Though he was glad for the apology, he was even happier that Arthur hadn't accepted. After all, they didn't deserve Arthur's forgiveness. He was too good for them.

Arthur himself was a little sad at what he had said, looking back in regret at his two brothers, who were still standing where they had left them.

The birds weren't singing anymore.

**a/n: Yes I know...I am an evil, EVIL person for not updating in several months. But thanks to MDWOLFGIRL, I have updated! The story is coming to an end. Only about three chapters left if my calculations are correct. **

**Reviews are the syrup to my pancakes!**

**Canada: Me too!**


	13. Chapter 13

Many days went by after Scotland and Ireland had apologized to England. For the most part things were fine. Spain was back in his own country, so it was just France and England. Wales hadn't come to see England recently, and it made France wonder if the Welsh nation was upset that England hadn't forgiven the others. Either way, at least they werent being bothered. This was the longest time since forever that England had gone without being bullied. France noticed something else as well.

England was starting to change.

He no longer held that innocent lost look in his eyes. There was something else. France couldn't quite place it yet, but there was most certainly something else. It was beginning to worry him. When a nation lost their childish innocence, it was never good. France himself had witnessed the reality of life himself a long time ago. He had seen war, blood, and plenty of death, and he himself wasn't even that much old of a nation.

All of England's brothers were growing too. Scotland was pretty much a man now instead of a teenager, and Ireland was following close behind. Wales looked to be in his late teens. France had encountered them in the woods a few ties, but not much words had been exchanged. They left France and England alone, and France and England left them alone.

As the months passed, England himself also began to change physically. Instead of looking to be three or four, he now looked to be six or seven. His baby fat was fading (But it was still there). His limbs were skinny, and he began to develop a more gangly lean shape.

"Francis, I have a question." England asked him one night as they both sat at the table. France had been painting, and England was closely watching him work.

"And what question would that be mon cher?" France asked, absorbed in his work but still listening.

"Do you think that I will be a powerful country someday?" England asked him.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you will mon cher" France said with a chuckle. Being a powerful country was not an uncommon wish for most nations. Who knew, maybe someday England would grow up to be a big strong and successful nation. France really didn't want that to happen anytime soon, because he much preferred England as a cute little baby nation.

"Really? Good! Because I've decided that when I get bigger I'll be the strongest nation ever! Even bigger than Rome!" England said excitedly.

"Goodness, that would certainly be something." France chuckled at the thought of such a small sweet nation becoming anything like the Roman Empire.

"I know! But then I would be really strong, and people wouldn't pick on me or anything." England told him happily.

"Perhaps that would be true, but a lot of people also fear the Roman Empire" France told him matter-of-factually.

"Well...I wouldn't be mean." England said, eyebrows drawn together in thought.

"I know that mon lapin" France said, laying his work aside. "And now it is time for a bath and then bed. I'll get the water heated while you get your nightshirt."

Once England was tucked into bed, France got into his own bed, getting lost in his thoughts. It was never that good of a sign when a little nation began having those sort of thoughts. It meant that England was getting fed up with his life as a small nation. That could eventually lead to trouble.

He would have to snap the child out of these thoughts. Maybe if he went to the village and bought him some more toys? Something to embrace his childish side more. He honestly wasn't ready to loose England to the grasps of a nation's thoughts. Even though he was growing a tiny bit bigger, he was still only a baby compared to other countries. Once England even showed a bit of power, other nations would try to invade without a second thought.

"I wont let anybody hurt him" Francis whispered to himself, staring at the tiny sleeping form of England. "Mon lapin is my responsibility now."

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

It had been a few more days until Spain came back. This time however, he wasn't alone.

"I would like for you to meet Romano! He has recently come under my care!" The Spanish nation said, proudly gesturing to the little nation who stood behind him. He was about England's size, maybe a bit taller. "I figured that it would be nice to let Romano and England play."

"What a good idea!" France said, beaming. This would be great to get England back to his younger state of mind for sure! He had never had the chance to play with someone his physical age before. This would surely be good! Both Antonio and Francis however, didn't notice the way the two smaller nations were glaring at one another with distrust.

"Well, go on mon lapin. Say hello to petit Romano." France urged, nudging England forward slightly.

"Hello" England said stiffly, shoving France's hands away from him.

"Hello" Romano said back.

France and Spain both beamed.

England and Romano both grimaced.

This would be some play date.

**a/n: Sorry this was so short...next one will be longer, I promise!**

**btw, thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter! (:  
><strong>


End file.
